


New York Minute

by Anonymous



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Caring Carlos Reyes, Father-Son Relationship, Fights, Gen, I Tried, I've Always Wanted to Write this, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Not Beta Read, Owen Strand is a Good Dad, Owen and TK argue, September 11 Attacks, Some Fluff, TK Strand Needs A Hug, angst with a semi-happy ending, mentions of 9/11, or at least is trying to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: On the anniversary of 9/11—the first one they're spending in Austin–all TK wants to do is be there to support his dad, but unresolved feelings surrounding the date and all that happened in the aftermath become hard to ignore.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Firehouse 126 Crew (9-1-1 Lone Star) & TK Strand, Judd Ryder & TK Strand, Owen Strand & TK Strand
Comments: 28
Kudos: 115
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so it has always bothered me that Owen completely brushes off TK's feelings about 9/11 in the show, and I wanted fix that. I've wanted to write a fic like this for a long time, and the inspiration struck a few days ago, so here I am. 
> 
> The title is inspired by the song New York Minute by Don Henley. "In a New York Minute, everything has changed." 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy!

TK Strand wakes with a start. It’s not a nightmare, though he’s had plenty of those disrupt his sleep in the last couple of months, and it’s not a sudden change or a loud noise. No, it’s more like his body and subconscious knows something is wrong and just woke him up. But nothing is wrong, nothing at all.

He sits up slowly, taking note of the arm wrapped across his chest and lifts it off carefully. Taking in the white walls, the carpeted floor, and the grey duvet cover TK knows he’s not at home. In his practically sleeping state he’s managed to deduce that he’s at Carlos’s house, in Carlos’s bed. The sun is already pouring through the window and TK thinks it’ll be a good d— _oh fuck_

The date hits him like a ton of bricks and TK’s jumping out of the bed as fast as he can, without waking the sleeping man next to him. Stumbling around the room, he’s trying to find all the clothes he had on the night before. He’s never before regretted having sex with his boyfriend, but he does this morning. He was never supposed to stay the night; it was supposed to be just some Netflix, but then emotions and things had other plans. And god, he was worn out and the bed was so soft and his boyfriend was just so persuasive…. _fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck…. fuck._

TK trips trying to hastily pull on his pants and lets out—what he thinks—is a quiet curse. It’s not quiet at all though, or maybe his boyfriend’s just a really light sleeper, and Carlos is suddenly sitting up in the bed looking very confused. “TK? What the hell?”

“I have to go.” He’s looking for his shirt which, of fucking course, is absolutely nowhere in sight. Now TK’s annoyed with his habit of just throwing his clothes off, but it’s hard to thinkof future consequences when Carlos’s mouth is on his.

Carlos rubs the sleep from his eyes, immediately looking more alert and awake. It’s always amazed TK how quickly he’s able to do that. “The alarm isn’t going off for another twenty minutes.”

_Fuck,_ TK thinks. They always set there alarm pretty late though still with enough time to be on time for their shifts, neither of them really morning people. His dad’s already up, probably already at the station, struggling through the morning alone.

“I have to go,” He repeats, finally finding his shirt half-way across the room, hastily flung and catching on the corner of the dresser. “I was never supposed to stay here last night.”

His boyfriend gets out of bed now, walking over and putting a calming hand on TK’s bicep. The gesture stops him in his tracks, and TK melts into the touch just a little. Carlos studies him. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“It’s September eleventh.” Just saying the date out loud makes TK feel worse. He’s not supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be at home with his dad. Getting ready for their shift together and making sure he’s okay.

“Okay… And?”

It takes TK by surprise that his boyfriend doesn’t know. In New York, it was rare to find a first responder who hadn’t heard about Owen Strand. The lone survivor. At the academy, TK could hear the whispers whenever his name was called; people wondering if he was related to _the_ Owen Strand. To put it somewhat crudely, his father was: the man, the myth, the legend.

Besides, TK figured it would’ve come up in one of Carlos’s conversations with Michelle. He’s fairly sure that before Owen and her became friends, Michelle complained about his father a lot.

He doesn’t want to just come out and say it. It seems a little… well, TK doesn’t really know how it seems. He just doesn’t want to say it outright. If he could, TK would forget this day even existed. But he can’t. September eleventh 2001 is burned into his brain. “My dad… uh… My dad was there, Carlos. He was working that day…”

He doesn’t mention the loss of the rest of the 252. They don’t have the time to unpack and talk about it, so TK feels like it’s unfair to dump all that onto his boyfriend.

“Holy shit…” TK expects that, but he doesn’t expect what his boyfriend says next. “Are you okay?”

The question floors him. No one has ever asked how he’s doing when it comes to today. All of people’s attention is focused on his dad, as it should be. Owen lost fourteen people,fourteen members of his family. TK didn’t loose anyone; in fact he was a lot luckier than a lot of firefighter’s kids. A lot luckier than some of his closet friends at the time. But he was a scared seven-year-old boy. A scared seven-year-old boy who caught bits and pieces of the hell his father walked through on the news.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The words feel awkward on his tongue, but TK makes sure not to trip over them. Today is not about him. Not in the slightest. “I’ve got to go…”

Carlos nods, “Let me drive you.”

TK wants to say no. It’s not fair to pull his boyfriend out of bed for no reason on his day off, but he can’t deny that he just wants to be close to him. Then Carlos just hits him with that sincere and caring look, a soft smile that melts TK’s heart and inhibition. He can’t say no, so he nods and watches his boyfriend go grab his keys. 

Today is going to be rough. He just knows it.

***

TK stumbles out of the locker room, still fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He looks way off from his usual put-together self, but he doesn’t care. All TK wants to do today is find his dad and be there for him. 

Judd’s standing at the kitchen counter waiting for him with a coffee in his hand. 

“Thanks,” TK takes the moment. He lets his mind go blank for one moment as he takes a sip of his coffee. TK knows it’s the only minute of peace he’ll get all day. “Is he in?”

Judd nods, “he’s in his office.” 

TK nods and takes one more sip of his coffee before setting it down. Judd sends him up the stairs with a sympathetic smile and a brotherly clap to the back. 

He’s still kicking himself for sleeping in this morning, for even falling asleep in the wrong house, as he walks up the stairs. His dad won’t care, probably won’t even bring it up, but that doesn’t mean TK can’t feel bad about it.

His dad looks up from the desk when TK stops in the doorway. He holds out a picture with a sad smile on his face. “Remember this?”

He walks in and takes the photo out of his dad’s hand. TK does, in fact, remember this photo. He remembers the department barbecue it was taken at and remembers almost the exact moment it was taken at. He remembers vividly, running around with the other kids and posing with the crew for the photo. He remembers what happened not even a month after that photo was taken and he remembers the aftermath. Despite being only six, TK remembers all of it… But today is not about him. 

He nods, “Yeah. That was Bennett Park, right?” 

“Yep. Jones almost set the whole park on fire. We swore that was the last time he’d ever be allowed to operate the barbecue…” His dad trails off, stopping with a stricken expression. TK knows that his dad is thinking about how that was the last time Jones operated the barbecue. That was the last department barbecue before 9/11. 

“Dad… you alright?” 

TK supposes the grimace he gets is his dad trying for a smile. Owen lets his eyes rest on the melted metal on his desk before meeting TK’s. “Not really…”

There’s a silent conversation between them, and then Owen is standing up and TK is wrapping his arms around him. He can almost smell the dust and ash from that day; remembering how he refused to let go of his dad (when Owen finally came home three days later) even though he was covered in inches of the stuff. 

He hugs his dad tighter when he feels shaky breaths over his collarbone. “I know.”

They stay like that for a minute, both of them finding comfort from the other before Owen pulls away with a smile. It’s small and sad, but it’s at least there. “Thanks, TK.”

“Anytime, dad.” And he means it. He really does. This isn’t the first time his father’s had to work a shift on the anniversary, but this is the first time he’s not doing it at the 252.TK isn’t sure wether not being there is better or worse for his dad. “I already told you, I’ve got your back.” 

Owen nods and lets the silent linger for a moment before speaking. “Alright, I’m sure you’ve got chores to do. Can’t have everyone thinking the cap’s kid gets special treatment.” 

“You sure?” He hates that there’s a part of him that desperately hopes that his dad will let him leave. 

Owen nods again. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.” 

So TK smiles and he hugs his dad. On the way out, he can’t help but cast another glance at the photo on his dad’s desk. His heart squeezes at the smiling kids that were his friends, and the crew he considered family. It breaks for the little boy bearing his name who doesn’t know that his world is going to go crumbling with the towers. 

But again, he reminds himself as he makes his way down the stairs to join the crew, today is not about him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Carlos🥰:** Hey. I know this is probably the plan but I’m just confirming, you’re going home with your dad tonight? 

**TK:** I’m sorry, but he needs me there tonight. 

**Carlos🥰:** Don’t apologise, I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. It’s good that he’s got you there. Are you okay, though? You seemed a little… when I dropped you off. 

**TK:** Yeah, sorry. I’m alright, I just wanted to get in to be there for my dad.

 **Carlos🥰:** I get it. So, I’ll see you tomorrow? 

**TK:** Tomorrow. Come pick me up and then we can actually finish watching The Good Place

 **Carlos🥰:** 😏😉

 **Carlos🥰:** It’s a date. Be safe. 

**TK:** You know I always am. 😘🥰 

TK looks up from his phone to see the team pretending not to watch him from the kitchen. Mateo’s fiddling with the coffee maker with Paul as Marjan checks her phone and not so subtly casts glances up at him. Judd’s the worst at it, just looking down at his coffee like it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world. TK has to bite back a laugh as he walks over to them. “You know you guys are the worst at being inconspicuous.” 

“We weren’t doing…” Mateo starts, but a head shake from Paul has him trailing off. “Okay, yeah, we’re pretty bad at that.” 

He shrugs, it’s not new. The crew in New York used to do it too, though they were a little better at it. “Cap’s okay. He’ll probably spend a lot of today in his office, but he’s okay. He’ll be fine on calls and stuff.” 

The fact that that’s the information they’re looking for gets confirmed when TK notices everyone relax slightly. He knows the drill for today; check on his dad, re-assure the crew, go about the day semi-normally while continuing to check in on his dad. It’s nothing new, he’s been doing it since he joined his dad’s station back in New york. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Paul gives him a sincere look that’s mirrored on everyone else’s face. 

TK’s noticed that’s the difference between here and New York. When he was at the 252, he had a few friends on the crew, but they weren’t a family. Most of them just knew him as the Captain’s kid, and treated him as such. Here, at the 126, they’re a family. They’re there for each other 24/7, work or not. It reminds him of what the 252 was like when he was a kid, and normally that would make him smile. Today, it hurts. 

“Just… He’ll have moments. They won’t be on calls or anything, but just around the house. Something, anything, could bring stuff up.” He catches Judd’s eye when he says it. Judd understands what he’s talking about, and TK knows he’ll be able to lean on him if need be. “Just be patient with him.”

Everyone nods, and TK knows he’s got some backup. 

They leave almost one by one—first Mateo, then Marjan, then Paul—leaving him and Judd alone in the kitchen. They stand like that for a minute, the two of them drinking their coffees in silent understanding. 

“Alright, kid. Let’s go finish cleaning the rig before the Cap thinks we’re slacking” He puts his cup back down on the counter and starts to head into the engine bay. 

TK nods and follows him, desperately trying to stop the tears that have snuck up on him unexpectedly. He swallows hard and wills to forget the memory Judd’s words have brought to the front of his mind. 

***

He knows this is a horrible idea. Starting the walk down memory lane has never really ended well for TK, and he guesses that’s all that needs to be said about his childhood. This is a horrible idea, but the picture in his dad’s office sparked something and now he can’t stop. 

He uploaded the pictures to his phone a while ago, but doesn’t really look through them all that often. If he wants to be nostalgic, TK’ll normally just find the album or talk to his dad. That isn’t really an option today, so he resorts to sitting on his bed in the bunkroom swiping through his photos. 

It’s easy to tell when 9/11 happened. Most of the pictures in the “before” are of TK and his parents. There’s three happy people smiling up at the camera, and the love is almost tangible. There’s a pause in the photos for a while, and then there’s one member prominently missing. In the “after” most of their pictures just ended up being TK and his mom, and TK thinks he can see the tension in those photos. Neither of them were as happy as before, the absence of his dad painfully obvious. 

The picture staring back at him, a prime example. TK standing in his baseball uniform holding a trophy and his mom beside him…

_“Owen. The game’s going to start in twenty minutes, how far are you?”_

_TK catches the snippet of his mom’s conversation, face lighting up when he figures out it’s his dad on the other end of the phone. He’s excited to show his dad how good he is, how much better his brand new glove is. He’s gonna run super fast this time, he’s got to show his dad how fast he is—_

_“What do you mean you’re still at the station?” For a seven-year-old kid, TK’s gotten good at reading facial expressions. He sees the angry one pass over his mom’s face—the one that’s usually reserved for when he makes a mess of the living room. “No, your son needs you… Owen, it’s his championship game…”_

_He’s not sure what happened. One minute his mom’s talking to him about how they’ll go out for ice cream afterwards—just the three of them—and now she’s using the angry voice on his dad. The two of them have been using their angry voices a lot lately._

_“I swear to god… I don’t want to hear it, Owen! All he wanted was his dad at his baseball game… You can’t keep doing this to him..”_

_TK get’s what’s going on now, and the smile fades from his face. Suddenly, he doesn’t care too much about his new glove or how fast he’ll go._

_His mom sees the change and shoots him a quick sad smile, “Look, Owen, I’ve got to go and pick up the pieces. I don’t care how you do it, find a way to make it up to him.”_

_She hangs up and walks over to where TK ran in front of her in his excitement. He looks up at his mom, eyes glassy. “He’s not coming, is he?”_

_It’s answer enough when his mom gets down on her knees so they’re eye-level. TK’s eyes find the ground and he drops his glove. He doesn’t really want to play anymore._

_“Baby, I’m sorry.” She grabs his glove with one hand and pulls him to her with the other. They stay like that for a minute before Gwen pulls away. “We can still go for ice-cream afterwards.”_

_TK still looks sad and a little skeptical. He wants to go from ice-cream, but he wants to go with his mom and his dad. He wants it to be the three of them._

_“You can get a double scoop. Any flavour you want.”_

_Gwen’s words have the desired effect and TK cracks a small smile. “Promise?”_

_“I promise.” She smiles when TK nods and holds up his glove for him to take. Gwen ruffles his hair when he does. “Go get em’ tiger.”_

The alarm pulls him out of the memory and TK jumps up from the bed. He meets everyone in the engine bay, partaking in the rushed conversation as they pull on their turnout gear. TK catches his dad’s eye as they hop in the truck, calm and confident as always. As the truck races off, sirens wailing—TK knows that, in the grand scheme of things, a few missed baseball games is nothing. 

***

Things have never been this tense in the truck. Not even after the corn silo incident where, upon getting out of the truck, Judd and TK almost started a fist fight. The circumstances are sort of the same; TK disobeyed a direct order, ended up doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and is now in trouble. 

This time’s different though because it wasn’t Judd’s order he disobeyed. It was his father’s order. His captain’s order. 

Tk’s the last one out of the truck, hopping out after Paul and slamming the door behind him. The sound reverberates in the mostly silent engine bay. TK ignores the looks of concern from his team and heads right over to the cubbies to shed his turnout gear. 

“TK, my office when you’re out of the shower.” His dad’s voice is missing the usual softness whenever they talk. 

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at his father as he drops his helmet on the bench for the Probie to clean and heads upstairs to shower and change into some fresh clothes. 

Whatever anger or annoyance TK’s feeling disappears down the drain along with the water and dust. His mind keeps replaying the call, and he knows he wouldn’t have done anything different. There’s not one decision he regrets making, not even the one that’s gotten him in all this trouble. 

When TK’s finally washed off all the dust and has let the warm water calm him down a little he changes his quickly and makes his way to the captain’s office. 

He and his dad use church and state. When they’re just hanging around the firehouse or their actual house, TK calls him dad and they act like father and son. When they’re on a call or in front of the brass, TK calls him captain and they act like co-workers. Today, he broke the church and state rules. 

They had been called out to another collapsed house. The people who owned it, a couple with three kids, were renovating themselves. They had one of those demolition parties (basically just let the kids run around with sledge hammers and break stuff), and the kids unknowingly took a load bearing wall. The second floor collapsed on top of the first and trapped everyone, but the mom was able to make the 911 call. 

TK and Marjan were set to go in, when his dad made another last minute decision to take his place. This time, TK lost it on him. He doesn’t exactly remember what he yelled at his captain in front of their entire crew, but he’s sure it was along the lines of “you’re the captain, this isn’t your job. This is our job, let us do it.” (He’s pretty sure there were some expletives in there). Then he’d just gone in, ignoring the captain’s calls not to. Marjan eventually followed him and they’d gotten everyone out, but TK was in serious trouble. 

“What the hell was that!” Is how Owen decides to start as soon as TK makes his way past the threshold of the office. 

TK knows the reason he did it. His dad probably would too if he paid a little bit more attention to his son. He knows why he disobeyed an order and disrespected his captain in front of everybody, but he knows he can’t explain it to his dad. 

He can’t explain that the scene they arrived at wasn’t the scene he saw. He can’t explain how he saw the soft glow of the tv from where he hid behind the couch. Can’t explain that instead of the gasps and shouts from the crowd he heard his mother’s soft tears. Can’t explain that instead of a collapsed house he saw collapsed skyscrapers and streets of dust. TK can’t explain that for the first ten minutes at that scene, he felt all of seven-years-old. He can’t explain that he wanted his father nowhere near an unstable building, especially not today. He can’t explain because he’s not allowed to. 

So he keeps his mouth shut and he lets his captain chew him out. Of course Owen assumes it’s because he wanted to be the hero or because he thought that he shouldn’t do it because of the cancer. Of course his dad wouldn’t realize that he was terrified. That his hands visibly shook at the idea of Owen going into that building. It doesn’t surprise him; his father not knowing things about him is pretty par for the course. 

His father gives him one more steely look, “I’ll bench you if that happens again. I mean it, TK, Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” He nods, “I’m sorry for disrespecting you in front of the crew.” 

TK’s surprised he managed it without the venom he wanted to include in his voice. As soon as his father lets him go, he makes a beeline for the door. TK heads toward the locker room, taking the steps two at a time, ready to get away from people for at least a little while. 

He’s not exactly sure how long he’s been there when he snaps out of whatever’s going on with him. His locker’s dented and there’s a white hot pain shooting from his fist and up his arm. Sitting on the bench, head in his hands, TK lets himself have a minute.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely feel like 9/11 was a big part of why TK freaked out when they had that call at the collapsed house in episode four, and I kinda wanted to play off of that and my headcannon for it. So, that's where that whole scene came from. 
> 
> The demolition party thing is an actual thing I've seen people do. Basically adults just let kids run around with sledge hammers and markers and they go crazy on the house. Responsible people mark the load bearing walls and make it clear to the kids that they can't touch them. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm fairly sure that situation I wrote is not correct and highly fictional, but hey, it's fan fiction! I'm allowed to exaggerate a little! 
> 
> Also, I'm apologizing in advance for everything I put TK through in this fic. It's kind of a lot. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's reading! I love you guys and I do it for you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so third chapter up. The reason its so late will be in my notes at the bottom. 
> 
> Warning: Spoilers for season 8 of Ru Paul's Drag Race 
> 
> (I know that's a weird warning for this fic, but I'm still putting it there.)

It takes a while for TK’s breathing to even out, even longer for his hands to stop shaking. The images in his head have faded, and he’s once again starting to feel like the twenty-six-year old he is instead of the seven-year-old he was.

The thought creeps up on him once he’s mostly calmed down; his anger wasn’t really anger at all. TK recognizes that what he felt on that call and afterwards was fear. A fear that his father would go into that house and never come out. Fear that even if his dad did make it out, he’d disappear again. 

He’s not too sure why he’s surprised, something like this happens every year. Usually, though, he’s good at ignoring it. Today is not a day he gets to feel. 

Hoping to at least have some distraction, now that interacting with the team doesn’t seem like an option, TK pulls out his phone. Endless scrolling through any and all social media apps seems like the right way to go, only until he opens instagram and sees that almost every post and every story mentions 9/11 in some way. So much for social media escapism. 

Well, texting his boyfriend is always an option. TK smiles as he opens his messages app, the little blue dot sitting on the left side of their conversation. 

**Carlos🥰:** Hey, baby. Just checking in to see how your day’s going. I heard about your last call.

 _Of course he did._ TK shoots off the reply without thinking, then promptly shoves his phone back into his pocket. 

**TK:** Day’s going good. My cancer ridden, idiot father decided that going into a collapsed building full of dust was a good idea. I pointed the fact that he was being idiotic out to him, and now I’m on the shit list. So, yeah, the day's going great. 

A few deep breaths is what he needs to dull the fire that Carlos’s text reignited in him. It’s not his boyfriend’s fault that today is so messed up, and yet TK can’t bring himself to apologise for the curt text. His brain’s gone a little haywire, and TK just needs some time to sort it all out. He needs this day to be over and he needs some time to force everything back into his box. 

TK knows it’s possible. He’s been doing it every year since the age of seven. He doesn’t intend to stop now.

***

The rest of the day passes relatively quickly and cal l’y. They ended up with only one other call, a little girl who tripped and fell in the hallway and smacked her head against a water fountain at school, and it isn’t long before TK finds himself sitting in the passenger seat of his dad's car. 

They haven’t spoken since their little “encounter” in his dad’s office and TK’s less than enthusiastic apology. 

The guilt’s starting to catch up with him. He was supposed to make today easier on his father. He was supposed to be there for his father. Instead, he disobeyed a direct order on a call and was a complete brat about it when he got in trouble afterwards. 

Tk sighs, turning to face his dad as they drive down the Austin streets. “I’m sorry about earlier.” And he means it. 

“I know.” The quick look his father sends him is full affection and it makes TK’s stomach turn. “I forgive you.” 

TK doesn’t think there’s anything his dad won’t forgive him for at this point, and the thought adds to the uncomfortable feeling in his gut. His father can forgive two overdoses and a drug addiction, yet he can’t forgive a few missed events a million years ago. He’s pathetic. 

His dad breaks the silence that’s once again settled over the car. “Any preferences on takeout?” 

Tk shakes his head, “you pick.”

“Pizza it is.” He smiles, and TK groans. It’s not that he doesn’t like pizza, he does, but he can’t stand Austin pizza. It’s the one thing he truly misses about New York (other than insomnia cookies). 

His dad can’t really taste the difference; he only eats pizza once a year anyway. Keto is another thing that gets thrown out the window on 9/11. 

They stop at Homeslice, a spot Carlos and Mateo have both recommended, and grab a large pepperoni. His dad wanted ham and pineapple, but TK had to put his foot down. He doesn’t care what day it is, pineapple does not belong on pizza. Not ever. 

Dinner is fairly quiet, even though they’re both sitting at the table together (that doesn’t happen very often). There isn’t too much to talk about; TK doesn’t want to bring up anything that’ll trigger his dad, and Owen doesn’t want to talk about any of it in fear of bringing up something he can’t shove back down. So, they sit in silence and eat their crappy, Austin pizza. 

“I think I’m gonna head off to bed,” his dad says finally, once they’ve finished dinner and cleared the table. 

TK nods. He knows his dad just needs some time alone to process things. “I’ll see tomorrow morning. Come get me if you need me.” 

His dad nods, shooting him a grateful expression and TK lets him leave. He sits at the table for a moment, alone, and his mind running through the events of the day. Waking up in Carlos’s arms in the morning, Carlos’s soft kiss on his cheek as he dropped him off on his day off, the texts to make sure he was okay. More importantly, he remembers the way he snapped after receiving one such text, and TK pulls out his phone. 

He can’t help the smile on his face when Carlos answers. “ _TK?_ ” 

“Hey, Carlos. Am I interrupting anything?” TK’s not sure if his boyfriend’s hanging out with Michelle tonight. 

_“Only my tenth episode of Drag Race.”_ TK discovered his boyfriend’s guilty pleasure halfway through their second week of dating. Carlos had been embarrassed, but TK had just plopped down on the couch next to him and asked what season. He feels privileged that Carlos watches with him; not even Michelle knows about it. 

“Season eight?” 

_“I still can’t decide if I’m happy that Bob won, or upset that Naomi only came in second.”_

TK can’t help but laugh. 

_“So, what’s up.”_

“I uh…. I wanted to apologize for earlier.” He lets out a breath, “I just… It was a rough call and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” 

_“Baby…”_ The love in Carlos’s voice makes him feel 100 times worse. _“I get it. I can’t imagine separating captain from dad is easy, especially today.”_

_“I’m sorry you got in trouble.”_

“It’s fine.” He runs a hand through his hair, “Don’t be sorry, I deserved it. I’ve kinda been a jerk all around today.” 

_“We love you anyway. I,” Carlos emphasizes the I, “love you anyway.”_

“I love you too.” He says softly. 

They talk for a little while longer. Carlos tells him about going over to his mom’s house to fix her porch, and about how his sisters are still annoying. TK tells him about some of the lighter details of the day; the foosball game against Judd and the fact that Mateo almost fell off the truck trying to show off. It’s a nice conversation and TK drifts away from the feelings the day has brought up, but it isn’t long before he starts yawning. 

_“You should go to bed, baby. You’ve got a shift in the morning, yeah?”_

TK makes a noise in the affirmative. 

_“Alright. I’m gonna hang up then.”_ He hears Carlos shift a little on the other end, probably starting to head off to bed himself. He’s got a shift tomorrow too. _“See you tomorrow. Love you.”_

“Love you too.” 

He heads up the stairs and to his room tiredly, but eager that this day has finally drawn to a close. He sucks in a breath as he passes his father’s closed dorm reminding himself that it won’t stay that way. 

Not like last time.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry this is so late. I swear I did have it planned and written out, but a few keys on my keyboard broke so it was impossible to use my computer. The repair took longer than they thought it would too, so that's why there was such a long wait. 
> 
> I've always had the head-cannon that Carlos watches Drag Race religiously (it may be self-projection, but oh well) and I wanted to work it into the phone conversation because the idea for this fic popped into my head upon my 100th re-watching of season eight. (We Stan Bob the Drag Queen and Naomi Smalls) 
> 
> Also, insomnia cookies? My absolute favourite thing about New York City. I had them a few times while doing some late night study sessions, and I loved it! I can totally imagine TK ordering them all hours of the night because ehe can't sleep, and then missing it an inordinate amount when they move to Texas. 
> 
> So, that's my note! I promise I'll have the next chapter up quicker! Love y'all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever let me write a fanfiction had terrible judgement (a.k.a me). I am so sorry this took so long again. So, here:

It’s been a rough day and, while TK waits for Carlos to come pick him up, he’s more than ready for it to end. The calls were almost non-stop and no one really got that minute to themselves afterwards to process. No one got that minute to breathe. The team had been avoiding him; the only person TK truly interacted with outside of calls was his father and Judd. Apparently, as Paul informed him less than twenty-minutes ago, he’d been pissy with everyone all day. 

He’s leaning against the front wall of the firehouse when the Camaro pulls up. He smiles, stomach sinking with how forced it is; he’s never had to force a smile with Carlos. TK’s been looking forward to this all of yesterday and all of today, he’s not going to let some stupid emotions (that he shouldn’t even have) ruin it for him. 

At least some of the tension flows out of him when Carlos pulls him into his arms. TK’s discovered over the last year-ish of dating that it’s his new favourite place. He’s learned that absolutely nothing can touch him while Carlos holds him. Not even his own pathetic self-destructive thoughts. 

“You smell like smoke.” Carlos says against his neck. 

He nods, “We had three fires today. It’s hard enough to wash it off after one… three is almost impossible.” 

“I like it,” he murmurs, face still buried in TK’s neck, “reminds me of you… It’s comforting.” 

Carlos has mentioned this to him on more than one occasion. Also once disclosing that during a week where they weren’t able to see each other because of scheduling and other bullshit, Carlos stole one of his Austin Fire t-shirts. 

TK gets it, he used to do the same thing when he was a kid. The smell of ash and smoke stuck to his father so much that TK just began to associate the smell with his dad. Sometimes, when his dad would check out and TK was missing him, he’d wander into the living room and throw on one of the soot-stained FDNY shirts to feel close to him. He convinced himself it was as good as having his dad there. (It wasn’t). 

Carlos finally breaks from him, but not before laying a soft kiss to the side of TK’s jaw and then his cheek. “Long day?” 

“One of the longest.” He answers, following Carlos into the car. “I swear, it’s like everyone in Austin needed assistance.” 

“Well… At least now you get to come home and relax. I’ve already got the Netflix set up.” He says, and TK can’t actually figure out if they’re doing Netflix or Netflix  _ and chill _ . 

“You cooking?” TK already knows the answer, but he thinks Carlos makes the cutest face whenever he brings up his food. His boyfriend denies it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fact. 

His point is proven when Carlos lights up with a smile, a light blush settling on his cheeks, and laughs, “You already know. I wasn’t looking forward to the complaining I’d get if I even suggested takeout.” 

The drive is pleasant. TK talks about their calls as Carlos listens enthusiastically. TK’s realized just how much he missed the domesticity of a healthy relationship over the past few months, especially now as Carlos asks all the right questions. For now, the crawling feeling that’s been present all day has lowered down to a simmer. TK’s feeling semi-comfortable in his skin for the first time since he woke up the day before.

“Alright, we’ve covered enough of my day,” he smiles, “what’s been going on in the world of Officer Reyes?” 

“We had a kid go missing today.” 

TK freezes. He knows that there are certain cases that get to them, and a missing kid definitely qualifies. “Carlos…. Holy shit. Are you okay?” 

He nods, “Yeah, it’s okay. We found him.” 

“Thank god.” TK’s been on  _ way _ too many calls where a missing kid turns into something dangerous. It doesn’t end well, a lot of the time. 

“He wandered away from the park and then realized he had no idea where he was.” Carlos shakes his head, “He was completely fine, but I thought his dad was going to have a heart attack. Which, all things considered, is understandable.” 

“How old was he?” TK’s voice is clipped and he forces the question out. 

“Eight, I think? He might’ve been nine.” 

TK nods silently as his brain is already asking the question. Would his father have reacted the same? Would his dad have freaked out on the cops trying to help because he’d disappeared? The worst part is, TK knows the answer is a resounding no. If he’d gone missing at age eight, his father wouldn’t have even noticed. 

It’s hard thought to process, but one that’s rooted in plain hard fact. His dad spent every extra minute he could at the firehouse, and if he couldn’t be at the firehouse he was locked in his bedroom at home. He missed things; stopped going to parent teacher interviews and baseball games. He stopped taking TK out for ice cream and pizza, stopped taking him to the park as often as he would before. He spent one week at his mom’s and one week at his dad’s, once his parents got the divorce. A lot of the time at his dad’s was spent at the 252 because he didn’t want to be alone. 

TK’s mind drifts back to the kid, and the question he’s been asking himself silently. He switches out the situations. 

Carlos is still going on about the case, talking about how Ray, his partner, had to stop the dad from having a panic attack. He nods along to what Carlos is saying and tries to appear engaged in the conversation. If Carlos notices TK’s discomfort he doesn’t comment on it, but he does drop the subject; instead transitioning to all the paperwork his captain stuck on him and his partner. 

Dinner is fairly quiet, but that’s not completely out of the norm. Both TK and Carlos are able to exist comfortably in each other’s space, not really needing to have a conversation to be close. TK’s learned, in the last few months of dating, that he really loves the quiet moments. 

Tonight though, it’s not a comfortable silence because TK’s caught up in his thoughts. He barely registers the scattered conversation Carlos is trying to make with him, and he hasn’t really eaten much. His brain’s running through that call again, along with the conversation about the missing kid. If his dad had been at work, how long would’ve it had taken for someone to find him that day ten years ago? 

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Carlos finally asks when they’re sitting on the couch. The Good Place is playing on the TV, and TK’s curled up into Carlos’s side.

He shifts a little bit, pointedly not looking at his boyfriend. “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

“TK,” Carlos’s tone shifts, and TK can see the skepticism without even looking at him, “I can tell something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong, okay? Nothing! Can you just leave me alone?” He regrets it the minute the words come out of his mouth. Carlos has been nothing but loving and supportive, and losing it on him twice in the span of two days is not how TK planned to show his appreciation for it. 

Carlos pushes TK up off of him, and TK can see the hurt flash over Carlos’s face as he sits up. It’s only there for a second though, and the stoic expression of a police officer takes over his boyfriend’s face. 

“Okay, look. It is so very obvious that something is wrong. Even more obvious that you’re pissed off.” Carlos tries to catch his eye and TK very pointedly glares at his hands. “And I know that you keep all your feelings to yourself until you snap.” 

There’s silence for a few seconds before Carlos speaks again. 

“But that’s not fair and you know it. You don’t just get to snap at me because you’re pissed off. Especially _ , _ ” his tone softens and so does his expression. “when I’m trying to help you. You’re allowed to tell me things, you know that right? You’re allowed to not be okay and you’re allowed to say that to me.” 

Carlos’s hand finds his. “I want to hear it, too. Okay? I want to, and I want to try and help you. So, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m not…. Ugh… it’s not you I’m pissed at. It’s not. And… and… you’re right. I don’t just get to snap at you because I can’t deal with my feelings.” 

He squeezes TK’s hand. “That’s not what I—”

“I know.” He sighs, “If I… Alright, if I tell you this… I’m just gonna need you to not interrupt.” 

“TK—” 

He knows exactly where his boyfriend’s mind has gone. “It’s not drugs. Well… it’s kinda related to drugs… but I’m not using. So… just, promise me you won’t interrupt.” 

“Alright.” Carlos nods, squeezing his hand. 

“Okay, so… you know how I told you that my dad was working on 9/11.” Carlos nods. “He uh… He lost his entire team that day. Everyone who was on shift with him…” 

And from there everything just tumbles out of his mouth. From that morning to the funerals. The days when his father didn’t leave his room. Missed school plays and baseball games and the hushed but still audible fights in the kitchen. The divorce and those stupid custody hearings. 

Even if he feels like he wants to, TK can’t stop the information vomit. He talks about the late nights alone, wondering why his parents didn’t care about him enough to spend time with him. The parties that were all too easy to sneak out to and the drugs that he so eagerly used to fill a void. 

Somehow, during all of it, TK ended up pressed back up against Carlos’s side. He also started crying at some point, but he can’t remember when. So, instead of trying to figure it out, he sobs into Carlos’s chest and lets him rub his back. TK listens to the whispered assurances from his boyfriend and just lets himself be held. Lets himself feel. 

He doesn’t know how long it is before he finally calms down. Pulling his face out of Carlos’s chest, TK lets out a shaky breath and wipes his eyes. “I’ve uh… I’ve never told anyone all of that before…” 

“I figured…” Carlos pulls him close again and lays a kiss in his hair. “Thank you for telling me.” 

TK nods, “So… I uh… I know you’ve got an opinion. I can practically feel the psychoanalyzation going on… “ 

“I just…” Carlos sighs, “I think you should maybe talk to your dad about this.” 

“No.” 

“TK—” 

“No!” He pulls away harshly, jumping up off the couch. The tears are coming back and he can hear the emotion in his voice. “No. Do… Do you know how long it took for us to get where we are? I just… I  _ just _ finished telling you how broken our relationship was and… and now you want me to fuck it up all over again?” 

Carlos stands up slowly, talking softly. “I’m worried because you’ve been keeping all of that bottled up all these years.” 

“Its fin—” 

“No. No, it’s not.” He shakes his head, “The fact that you feel you can’t bring your own feelings up with your dad because you’re afraid it’s going to ruin your relationship is concerning. Baby… it’s not healthy. It’s not. And I’m… I’m worried about you.”

“Jesus. I’m clean! I’ve been clean ever since New York! Does everything always have to come back to this?” 

“It’s not about that. TK, you just spent half-an-hour crying into my chest. Before that, you snapped at anyone who was trying to talk to you.” His tone softens. “This stuff won’t just go back into its box. And it shouldn’t.” 

Carlos takes a tentative step forward, gently and slowly placing his hands on TK’s hips. “Baby, this isn’t fair to you. None of this is fair to you. You get to have feelings about this. You get to be hurt about this.” 

He’s not exactly sure what in him snaps, but TK finds himself repeating Carlos’s words in his head. Maybe it’s nineteen years of keeping all of this pushed down into the deepest darkest part of himself. Or maybe it’s someone actually telling him for the first time, out loud, that his feelings are valid. Whatever the reason, TK lets out a sob and nods. 

“Say it. Say: I get to have feelings.” 

TK swallows hard. “I… I get to have feelings.” 

Carlos pulls him into his arms immediately, and for the second time in the night TK lets the tears come. 

“I don’t…. I… What am I going to say to him?” He whispers into Carlos’s neck.

Carlos just holds him tighter. “I’ll help you, ok? We’ll figure it out.” 

TK lets himself for a few minutes before nodding and pulling away. He’s a little overwhelmed from all the crying and, honestly, he’s done talking about this for the night. “Thank you… but, later, okay? Right now, I want to finish movie night with my boyfriend.” 

“Okay. I think I can make that happen.” Carlos smiles. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so that was 2,000 words of semi-healthy communication between Carlos and TK. 
> 
> My reasons: 
> 
> 1\. Because I've wanted them to have a conversation like this the whole fic
> 
> 2\. Some version of this conversation needed to be had
> 
> I promise TK and Owen are gonna have their own "little" conversation soon.


End file.
